


Ill Met By Moonlight

by Rosebudwhite



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, References to Shakespeare, Romance, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosebudwhite/pseuds/Rosebudwhite





	Ill Met By Moonlight

The colours swirled before her eyes: green, blue, silver, purple, white. The roar of the crowd filled her ears; they chanted her name, they called for an encore, she bowed and soaked up all the glory. She woke up in a cold sweat as she slammed the alarm that had woken her from the dream. It had been so real. In that moment, she had been centre stage, and she had loved every minute of it. Yet in the cold light of day, there was no way she would even contemplate putting herself in front of anyone, performing terrified her. That was the job of her designs; they did her speaking for her.

She climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Reaching for her toothbrush the colours from her dream resurfaced in her mind’s eye and she realised that it was not the subject of the dream that had bothered her the most, it had been the colours. They had been perfect.

With her toothbrush still in her mouth, she ran to her desk and picked up her discarded pens from where she had thrown them in disgust the night before. She glanced over the sketches she had been working on before bed and unceremoniously screwed up every single one. Drawing a fresh sheet of paper in front of her and flipping her iPod back on to the production’s soundtrack she closed her eyes as the first bars washed over her.

_____

She had been late arriving, but as she was not vital to the general proceedings at this stage, her arrival went unnoticed by everyone. From the back of the rehearsal room, she was able to watch the actors and dancers. It had a cast of big names, all eager to be involved in such a high profile production of A Midsummers Night’s Dream by this cutting-edge director. She herself had fought off a great many other more established designers to be involved in the set design. Her last installation had apparently bowled over the art director. She just hoped she was up to the task of such a monumental creation.

She needed to get through this room to the production offices at the back where she was due to meet the art director and costume designer to show them her newest ideas, she hoped that what she had sketched together that morning would do the job. Clutching her portfolio tighter she made her way around the outside of the room, she noticed that the actors had split into three groups, the Athenians, the Fairies and the Mechanicals. Each group were running through their own sections of the first two acts. Before she could reach the production room, a booming Oberon bumped into her. Her dilapidated portfolio practically exploded as it hit the floor, with her designs scattering in all directions.

She knelt down, cursing as she tried to regain some of her work before too many feet trampled them. As she gathered them into a pile again, a hand shot into her line of sight with several more sheets.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” The hand was apologising. No, the long lean arm was, the tight muscled shoulder was, the lean elegant neck was apologising. No, the perfectly proportioned face, angled cheekbones, and twinkling eyes of Tom Hiddleston were apologising.

“Oh, er, no, its okay, my fault, not looking where I was going.”

“No, I should have been. I got a bit too overenthusiastic with my _exunt_.”

She had to laugh at that. When his eyes did not leave hers, she felt the need to break the stare and try to rearrange her pages back into some semblance of order.

“What are the pictures?” He looked down at the page she was just turning back around.

“Scenery.” Her nerves around him had reduced her to a one-word answer.

“You drew these?” She just nodded back. “They are exquisite. You are going to put the rest of us to shame. We mere actors will pale in comparison.”

“It’s only a few canvases.”

“Still, it’s art. Good art, it’s beautiful…”

“If I ever actually get them made. I’m so behind I’m going to still be painting the scenery whilst you are all rehearsing on the stage.”

“Then maybe we’ll get a chance to see each other again then?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m Tom, by the way; I’m going to be Oberon.” He held out his hand.

Taking it she remarked, “I’m just the scenery girl, who’s late for a meeting with the art director. Sorry.” And she ran from the room.

_____

The last sweep of paint filled the white space and she stepped back. The stage was finally just as she had seen it in her dream all those weeks ago. She could see the actors now filling the space. She saw Puck climbing out of the leaves, she saw ‘Pyramus’ and ‘Thisby’ leaning against her wall, she saw Tom, as the majestic Oberon, stalking the stage between the real world and dream world. Oh Tom, for all her love of the theatre if only she had the nerve to actually stand up in front of people, she could have been an actress. She could have been in this play. She could have played opposite him.

A thought struck her as she stood in the silent theatre. She could do this now; there was no one here to see, to judge her. She knew Titania’s part. She had been watching for the rehearsals for weeks, reading the play every night to try to gain her inspiration for the sets. The fact that Tom would be Oberon in her mind helped slightly.  
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine him standing in front of her, his face stern and masterful in his demanding of Titania’s new playmate. She took a deep breath and the words tumbled out.

_“These are the forgeries of jealousy:_  
And never, since the middle summer’s spring,  
Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,  
By paved fountain or by rushy brook,  
Or in the beached margent of the sea,  
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,  
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb’d our sport.” 

She moved about the stage as she had seen the actress playing Titania do in the rehearsals. She knew she was not as lithe as the other was, and nowhere near as graceful, but she did not care. In that moment in the dark theatre, she was Titania, she was the Queen if the Fairies, she was rebuking her Oberon.

_“And this same progeny of evils comes_  
From our debate, from our dissension;  
We are their parents and original.” 

She sighed as the last words left her lips. This had been a stupid idea. Turning back to the canvases, she had all intention of collecting her brushes and packing up, but from the back of the stalls, a deep voice replied to her monologue.

_“Do you amend it then; it lies in you:_  
Why should Titania cross her Oberon?  
I do but beg a little changeling boy,  
To be my henchman.” 

She let out a scream and turned back to face the auditorium. With the bright stage lights, she could see nothing beyond the first row but she knew that voice. The voice of Oberon.

"Ehehehe, I’m sorry. I thought you were expecting an answer."

She watched as he came into view. “What are you doing here? I thought everyone had gone home.” She stammered out the words.

"I had, but I had forgotten my keys in the dressing room, so had to come back." He pulled the offending items out of his pocket and jangled them to defend his excuse.

She realised she must look a state standing there in the middle of the stage spouting his beloved Shakespeare. The dark forest green stained her hands and the glitter she had mixed with the white paint earlier had left streaks through her hair. Her favourite overalls were several sizes too big, and between them tied at her waist and the unflattering oversized Green Day t-shirt, she was not going to be winning any fashion awards. Tom on the other hand was immaculately dressed as always. His white shirt hugged his chest and the tight jeans left very little to her overactive imagination. He leant against the stage and looked up at her backdrops.

"The sets look good."

She brushed the hair from her eyes and blushed at his compliment. “Thank you.”

He pushed up on the edge of the stage, and effortlessly threw one leg up and hoisted himself onto it. Within moments was standing in front of the forest backdrop. The giant leaves filled the space, but between them, she had managed to create sparkles of sunlight flare. He walked up and down appraising her work. She could not help but appraise him in turn. The way his legs stretched far out below him, how his long fingers ran over his lips as he contemplated the artwork.

“They really are as beautiful as your sketches. And you make a good Titania.”

“Oh yes, a beautiful Queen of the Fairies am I,” She mock curtseyed holding onto her overall pockets.

"Do you know the dances too?" He leant over to the iPod dock that she had set up by her paint pots, and skipped the tracks to the penultimate piece.

"I’ve been watching the steps but I don’t think I can."

"It’s easy, hold onto me, and follow my lead. Come my queen, take hands with me.” He came towards her, took her hands, and pulled her to the middle of the stage. His arm snaked around her waist and his other hand grasped her hand masterfully but not too tight.

Her body melted into his and he began to lead her around the stage for the Fairies’ final celebration dance. It was both a celebration that all in the play had ended well, yet for Oberon and Titania it was a romantic reconciliation. The music was a gaudy waltz, to which Puck and the other fairies would leap around to, yet at the same time the royal fairies slowly waltzed across the stage, eyes locked to each other. Tom pulled her closer at each turn, his hand on her back relaxed her, and in turn, she felt his fingers spread across her back keeping her upright and in time with him. Her feet moved involuntarily as her subconscious remembered more of the dance than she thought she knew. As the dance ended she noted that despite his awkward partner, they had come to rest exactly on his mark.

He detached himself from her and bowed low. “Thank you.”

Breathless from both the exertion and the closeness to him, she could do nothing but answer a heady, “For what?”

"Allowing me to dance with you."

She raised her eyebrows, “Believe me, the pleasure is very much mine.”

"You are proving to be an impressive Titania. Could I go over one more thing with you?"

"Yes?"

"The reunion kiss?"

She did not allow herself to answer for she knew her brain would overrule her instincts. He was mere inches from her face; she simply raised herself onto tiptoes until their lips met. She felt his lips smile against hers before he kissed her back. His arms hugged tighter around her and she responded by running her hands over his arms, across his back and into his hair. She groaned into his mouth as their kiss became deeper and when he opened his mouth wider, she did likewise, their tongues met in eagerness.

A call from the back of the auditorium by the night janitor brought their kiss to an abrupt end. “Oi! I’m locking up for the night, you two finished?!”

Turning to the empty auditorium Tom projected, _“Trip away; make no stay; Meet me all by break of day.”_ Then he leant down and whispered in her ear. “But I believe you and I are just getting started.”


End file.
